The Seventh Me
by rainbowdragongirl101
Summary: A shadow of oneself, just a puzzle piece that would never be solved, never put back together. Oneshot. PruCan if you squint a little.


_Who Are You_

Matthew glanced up at the vast sky, mood plummeting further as the storm clouds drew closer and closer swallowing the once blue sky with lashing icy winds of winter, a common occurrence that should have already passed two weeks prior. Yet, there was no out running the inevitable frost, the predator that was only waiting to lure the lambs with false thoughts of safety that they had survived the torrents of winter and the famine of light, that they were free to graze while they await the Sheppard.

_Canada. I'm Canada._

_Don't you remember me?_

With a glance across the powdered yard the young man began to walk, making his way farther in towards the woods. He needed to clear his head, needed to calm down from what happened earlier, and yet all he wanted to do was walk and walk some more. The winds would help him, the smell of spruce and fir would help him feel relaxed, and the scenery would remind him that he was home, a relaxing thought of nostalgia.

_Can you even see me?_

Matthew couldn't help but to feel that something was off today, like the trees were leering at him as if he were an uninvited _thing_. The wind chilled him further and scratched at him to leave like a mad woman, and the sights before him were darker than normal, the world where he felt he belonged was slowly slipping away, in its wake was _that_ question, the question he hated with every fiber of his being, hated it for staining him, leaving a permanent scar that never faded, only kept bleeding.

_Don't you…Don't you hear me?_

How many times had he answered that question? Who were the ones who continuously confused him or forgot him, and yet when they did acknowledge him they always asked? Why did they never see him, he was there, clear as day! Matthew…He…He was there, he was a nation, a living breathing creature like anyone else…Shouldn't he be treated like such?

_Just a speck of dust_

_A Soldier Who Must Be Brave_

Matthew shook as his hat flew off his head, his coat suddenly felt itchy; his legs began to scream, his head whirling. 'Not again,' he cursed inwardly, 'Please, not now.'

When the aches didn't stop Matthew gave a few heavy breathes as he panicked and began to run, sprinting away to stop the pain, the unbearable truth that couldn't be healed with staying still. He had to move, run, limp, crawl, or _something_ that required him to _breathe_, to feel alive.

_Sometimes goodbye's the only way_

Never! Matthew knew that even if the others forgot him that he had people to live for, that did care once they remembered him! They…they…

Then Matthew remembered that over the last two years everyone had been forgetting him more and more, even Cuba stopped mistaking him as his younger brother, America, just not noticing him altogether. Francis was the same, he…no, they were all forgetting him.

They were forgetting Matthew as if he never existed.

_Shatter as you hit rock bottom_

How much time? How little did he have left? Matthew tried to shove the thought aside but the tears wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, his heart knew the truth of what was to happen…

With a sharp pain Matthew collapsed to the ground, muffling a cry as he curled on his side in pain. He could feel it, he was being ripped apart, and his very essence torn into multiple shards, and his soul became a jigsaw puzzle, one that may never be solved or show a picture. Instead, it would fade and disappear, the picture being him, all ten parts of him combined into one. Yet, that's what scared him the most.

Ten shards

One soul

Which was the real him?

_Words and sounds overlap_

_SCREAM_

The pain was unbearable now, worse than all the other times he'd been ripped apart. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears like a drum, his vision began to slur the world together, and all he could do was cry as he screamed out. Matthew wanted life, even if others sat on him, noticed him at their own pace, he wanted to live!

To see his brother act like the lovable, idiotic, and kind boy he was.

To sit with France and reminisce about times when he was a child.

To thank England for all that he's done for him and for still remembering him at his own pace.

To talk with Romano, even if he had a sailor's mouth, and debate if pancakes or tomatoes were better, yet never figure it out.

Matthew also wanted to see Prussia again, the one person who never seemed to really forget his existence.

"I want to live"

The words were so soft that Matthew barely heard them himself but that didn't matter, he wanted it, to taste life on his tongue and feel the weather beat down on him through the seasons, to watch and wait for the snow to slow and drift, and to reach up towards the sky and laugh, scream, cry, smile, jump, skip, even sing his heart out. Everyday would be precious, a jewel more beautiful than a diamond that should be praised.

But, it seemed it was not to be. He could feel his heart slow, agonizingly ceasing to pound within his chest, replacing it was the equally slow progression of waiting.

'Just one more time…' His thoughts began to slip away, 'Say it one more time…Please?'

_The world is so silent, I will sing only from my heart of hearts_

"_**Matthew"**_


End file.
